


Strangelove

by havisham



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Original Work
Genre: 1980s, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - VC Andrews Fusion, Camp, Canon Typical Fuckedness, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Family Secrets, Hand & Finger Kink, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Library Sex, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Southern Gothic, Uncle/Niece Incest, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-28 03:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19803802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Cora Ceres is drawn into a dark web of family secrets and must decide if she will accept her fate -- or change it.But when love is fated -- how is close is too close?





	1. strange highs & strange lows

**Author's Note:**

> **Content Notes:** Please take heed of the tags. This story contains incest, implied/referenced non-con, gaslighting and violence. If you're not down, no problem, there's other fish in the sea, etc. 
> 
> Big thank you to my beta, Zippitgood. All remaining mistakes are mine, etc.

Roses rotted after they bloomed, there was no helping that. The only way to get them to bloom again was to cut off their heads. Cruel to be kind, like Mama said. Cora wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed. It was another sweltering day -- hard to believe it was so late in autumn. Mama would be late coming home, but already it was twilight. Cora should’ve started on supper hours ago.

But she didn’t put the shears away right then. Down the gravel path from the cottage, she spied the flare of a lighted cigarette and a dark figure leaning against the white picket fence. 

The figure took off his hat to her in mock-salute. “A beautiful evening to you, Cora.” 

“Good evening, Uncle Elam,” Cora said politely as she approached him. “I’m afraid Mama can’t receive you tonight. She’s still at the university, giving a lecture.” 

“I know. It’s you I wanted to see.” 

“Oh?” Cora said, feigning surprise. “I hope it’s not a contract or something you want me to sign.” 

Elam laughed. “Not as such.” 

Elam was Papa’s brother -- Papa had run out on them many years ago and come back married to another woman, the very rich June, who lived in such splendor up on Mount Olympia, the big house across town. Cora and Mama didn’t have much to do with June or her children, but relations had improved ever since Papa had died last year back, leaving behind a surprisingly fair will behind him, splitting his estate between his wives and his numerous offspring and relatives.

The will had named Elam as the executor -- which was a surprise, as Cora had never known she had another uncle, and Grandma Ree had never mentioned that she had another son besides Papa and Uncle Don. 

When Cora had asked her mother about it, Mama had only given vague answers. “Elam never wanted much to do with the family,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “There was bad blood between him and your Papa, doesn’t matter now what for. Let the dead stay buried, Cora.” 

Cora couldn’t resist pointing out that the dead didn’t bury themselves. That was the whole point of a funeral, after all. 

The day of Papa’s funeral was one that would be burned into her memory forever, anyway. The whole day was a disaster from start to finish, from the church that was packed to the rafters with people who wanted to confirm that old Jupiter was truly dead, and the sea of children and young adults who could be -- who almost certainly were -- his children. 

Papa had never been a loyal man, or a good one -- he was just good at persuading people to love him, sometimes for a very short amount of time. 

It was in the old churchyard, where Papa was being laid to rest, that Cora first spotted Elam, a stranger in a sea of familiar faces. He smirked when he caught her looking, which didn’t seem fair. He wasn’t that much older than her and though he was dressed as one would expect for a funeral -- black on mournful black, he did not seem particularly sad. 

He looked nothing like Papa or Uncle Don -- who hadn’t been able to leave his dolphin-training business in Florida to make it to the funeral. Where those men had been larger than life, big and commanding, prone to florid passions, Elam seemed darker -- deeper. Stranger. 

Cora was so distracted that she forgot to ask Linton, her boyfriend, if he wanted to go back to Mount Olympia for the funeral lunch. Mama said she had one of her spells, but honestly, it was just the heat. 

*

Now, Cora unlatched the gate and warned him, “I don’t have much time to talk. I have to get supper ready.” 

But before he could step over the barrier, however, she shook her head and poked his chest with the blunt end of her shears. “First, put out your cigarette. Mama doesn’t allow it in the house.” 

“Of course. Sorry, Cora.” Elam’s eyes gleamed as he said it. He always looked like he knew some good joke that she wasn’t privy to -- that always annoyed her about him. There was something in his eyes that compelled a person to look in them deeply -- they were dark, like wells of still water. 

Papa’s eyes had been blue like the Aegean, he said, like their ancestors’ always had. And Cora had Papa’s eyes. 

Everyone said Cora took after Papa’s side of the family, except for Mama, of course. She’d point out how Cora inherited her hair, her nose, her chin. And Grandma Ree said that Cora was the splitting image of _her_ as a girl. 

Cora, personally, thought it was tiresome to be thought of as being bits and pieces of so many people -- a Frankenstein’s monster of a girl instead of a person herself.

Anyway, no one wanted to take credit for any time when Cora wasn’t perfect or pretty or desirable. Then, she was simply someone else's problem. No, she thought guiltily, not Mama. Mama always cared. That was always Mama’s problem. Mama cared too much. 

And Cora, when she’d been younger, had given her so much trouble … 

“What are you making?” Elam asked her, when the silence between them grew too long. Cora shrugged. Overhead, thunder began to roll. Cora winced. Thunder always aggravated her migraines.

“I don’t know. I think there’s some leftovers in the fridge…” 

“Sit down, then,” Elam said, “let me take a look.” 

The kitchen of the cottage was small and dated -- scarred by too many of Mama’s experiments and Cora’s baking disasters. When Elam opened the fridge, he closed it again abruptly and looked at her accusingly. “What have you two been doing?”

Cora laughed. “Don’t be a coward. It’s fine. Just push past what doesn’t look good. There’s some chicken from yesterday and a salad from the day before.” 

From the living room, the landline rang and she ran to get it. From the scratchy connection, Cora struggled to make out Mama’s voice on the other end of the line, but eventually, she heard it. 

“Cora? Cora, are you there?” 

“Yes, Mama? Are you OK?” 

“I’m fine, but my car broke down and I’m going to have to stay over at Grandma Ree’s tonight. Will you be alright by yourself?” 

“Mama,” Cora said, “I’m an adult. I’ll be fine. Tell Grandma Ree I love her.” 

“Have you eaten yet?” 

“I’m about to.” 

“Cora, do you have any eggs?” Elam’s voice floated up behind her and Cora winced. Mama was about to go into high alert on a frequency only dogs could hear. 

“Cora?” Mama said. “Is there someone there with you? Is that -- Elam?” 

“Who? Well, I’ll be fine. See you soon -- good night, Mama!” Cora hung up before her mother could ask more questions. 

She really did hate to lie to her, but Mama would never understand what was going on between Cora and Elam. And that was fair enough. Cora wasn’t quite sure she understood it herself. 

She thought it had really started the night after Papa’s funeral -- the whole family had stayed over at Mount Olympia, which, despite June’s complaints, was the only place large enough to handle the amount of people the funeral had brought in. Cora had slept badly, plagued by dreams she couldn’t pin down when she woke. Hester’s soft snores sounded louder than an orchestra and she had to get out. 

Once she got out in the moonlit hallway, she realized that she heard another sound -- someone playing the piano below. Without thinking, Cora followed the music downstairs to the library.

The grand piano had been bought by June for her children, but none of them were particularly musical. Instead, it was Elam who was by the keys, playing a song that tugged at Cora’s memory. She had heard it before, but she didn’t know where. 

As she approached him, she noticed his fingers — so thin and clever. They flew across the keys faster and faster before they came to an abrupt stop. Elam turned around and looked at her. His face was blank.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did I disturb your grief?”

Cora frowned. “That’s an odd thing to say.”

“What should I have said instead?”

“Maybe ‘Did I wake you?’ or ‘Was I playing too loud?’” 

Elam frowned. “You’re right. Forgive me. I’m not used to interacting with other people. I don’t always know what to say.” 

He moved aside on the bench and patted the empty place for her. Cora seated herself next to him and leaned in close. 

Conspiratorially, she said, “You know, everyone is gossiping about you.” 

Elam leaned in closer. “And what are they saying?”

“Well, that the reason no one’s heard of you — and that Grandma Ree never mentioned you before was that you murdered someone when you were young. And that you just got out of prison. Is that true?” 

Elam hesitated for a moment before he gave her a slow, insincere smile. “True or not, I couldn’t tell you now.” 

Cora frowned at him. “I’m no gossip. The only person I would ever tell was my mother.” 

“Your mother …?”

“Demetria Ceres, foremost grain expert in the lower forty-eight and probably the world?”

“You’re a very proud daughter, I see.” 

“Of course. My mother taught me there is nothing I can’t achieve, if I put my mind to it and nothing I can’t find out. And that includes your past, Uncle Elam.” 

Cora got up from the bench and dusted off the invisible dust on her nightgown. 

Rather weakly, Elam said, “Really… I’m not that interesting.”

But Cora was already on a mission. 

*

Dinner was ready within thirty minutes of the phone-call and Cora ate it like someone starved. Elam’s cooking skills couldn’t be impeached — especially compared to her own. He had turned the leftover chicken, salad and eggs into something delicious. After dinner came wine, and then, the two of them eyed each other warily across the dinner table.

The storm had only intensified outside — it seemed doubtful that Elam could drive home, if he wanted to.

“Cora,” he said, after a long silence. 

“Did you hate my father?” Cora asked him abruptly. Elam stiffened. 

“Why bring this up now?”

“It’s relevant, don’t you think?” Cora said, sipping the last of her wine. “Papa is the connection we share. You must really hate him if you want to fuck his daughter.”

Elam licked his lips. They were thin and curled at the ends with a grim approximation of humor. “Should I tell you about our first meeting? You won’t remember it but I was five, you were six months old. My mother told me exactly how I was supposed to hold a baby, showed me how to do it. My brother — your father — gave you to me and said, “Careful, don’t drop her. We don’t want her to be like you.” Do you know what I did then?”

“I have a pretty good idea now,” said Cora with another sip of wine. 

“Yes. I dropped you. Your mother came up to me and slapped me across the face. Didn’t let me see you after that, and honestly, it was for the best. I was — busy after that. Not in prison. Away. Underground, I guess you’d say.”

“You’re smiling like I’m supposed to know what that means. What, did you smuggle drugs?”

“I was five.” 

“Well, I don’t know. This entire family is a mystery to me. Why the hell did Grandpa and Grandma Ree call Papa Jupiter and then name Uncle Don Don and you Elam? Makes no sense.” 

“Well, Don is short for Poseidon.” 

“God, it gets worse.” 

“Honey, we’re white trash. We can be named whatever. But actually, my adoptive parents named me.” 

“You were adopted?” 

“I think that’s enough talking about the past. How about you, Cora?” 

Instead of answering, Cora rose from the table and left the kitchen, heading for the porch. The wind whipped sharply at her dress and the rain sprayed a fine mist across her face. Elam followed her out, standing a few inches away. She could feel the heat of his body against her own. 

He traced a finger down her arm and she moved away. 

“Cora,” he said. “If you don’t want me to be with you, then I’ll go. It’s no trouble.”

“Fuck you.” Cora turned to him. He looked surprised. Perhaps he truly thought she was too demure and ladylike to say such things. Whatever. “You come here and you tell me fucked up things and you pretend there’s some neutral choice I can make?”

“I never said it was a neutral choice,” Elam said, annoyed, before she kissed him.

Elam was taller than she was and he had to bend down to kiss her and she had to pull him down to kiss him, wrapping her hands around his neck and yanking, none too gently. He gasped when he pulled away, looking at her in disbelief. 

Then he kissed her. His fury was in his kiss, as was his desire and his impatience. Cora felt like she was being infected by his emotions, if she hadn’t felt all of them already. They were still on the porch, kissing in the dampness. They stumbled inside and peered at each other, as if they were strangers. 

“Come to my room,” Cora muttered, feeling her face heat up. Her room was, of course, right next to her mother’s —it had been virtually unchanged since she was a child, except that the twin bed had been changed out to a queen when she entered high school. 

She had never had sex here. Her adolescent fumblings and later adult affairs had always been conducted elsewhere. It had never occurred to her that it was possible to do it here. Home was where Mama was. It was sacrosanct. 

When Cora pulled off her dress, some rose petals and thorns came off with her. She brushed them away and shook some leaves off her wheat-colored hair. She saw that Elam was worrying over the same button on his shirt and beckoned him closer.

He came closer — eyes wide, as careful as an animal ready to pounce --or to be attacked. She stripped him of his clothes carefully and slowly, throwing them into a pile on the floor. As soon as that was done, he reached out and unhooked her bra.

He pressed his mouth against Cora’s right breast, licking against the nipple. Cora shuddered and pushed her breasts together, letting him kiss them for a moment, fervently, before she pushed him away. 

She rose a little unsteadily and grabbed her purse and rooted around for a spare condom. She was on birth control but imagined some infinimistial chance that she would get pregnant — no, she couldn’t risk it. She tossed it at him. Elam took it without comment. She avoided looking at him when he was putting it on, instead reading the spines of the books on her nightstand.

“Cora,” Elam said. He sounded sad. His dark hair was getting on his face and without thinking about it, Cora reached out and pushed it away. Elam took her hand and kissed it. 

“Cora,” he said again. “I’ve loved you since I saw you again, standing tearless and proud at your father’s funeral. It would be a lie to say I didn’t want this to happen. Don’t regret this. Whatever happens afterwards, don’t regret this.”

Cora didn’t know how she could make this promise and be truthful. So instead, she leaned in and kissed him, pressed against him and felt the wild beating of his heart. 

She pulled him on top of her and guided him inside of her. She wanted this Rubicon to be crossed. He understood, gripping hard on the headboard as he thrust inside her. It was over more quickly for him than it was for her. 

“Got too excited?” she teased him and he didn’t answer. The look on his face was enough. He pulled out and hunched down, burying his face in her sex. 

“Now hold on,” Cora said. 

“My fault,” Elam said breathlessly, “it’s been a while since I’ve done it, but no one can say I don’t know how to show you a good time.”

“I admire your enthusiasm but you don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to.” He kissed her thigh. “I’d love to.”

She sighed and relaxed then — and let him do what he so loved. He proved to be far better at eating cunt than he had been at fucking — at least, at first.

After a while, he pulled away and they held each other with the breathless wonder of new lovers, whispering questions to each other as the night turned slowly into morning. 

Cora slept and had an old dream. Someone who looked like Elam but wasn’t offered her six ruby-colored seeds and she swallowed them up without hesitation, and spat out the pits. 

In the morning, she woke and saw that Elam was smoking out the window of her bedroom, the morning mist threading in with smoke. 

“Why do you smoke?” she asked him, coming to the window and leaning against him, her hip braced against his. He put an arm around her, briefly, as if to keep her there — before letting her go. 

“Dirty habit, I guess.” 

“It’ll shorten your lifespan, you know.” 

“Wouldn’t _that_ be a shame, now.” He paused, considering it and then offered it to her. “Try it?” 

She took it and pressed her lips where his lips had been and breathed in. Her lungs didn’t like the sensation and rebelled at it. She put out the cigarette on the window sill and coughed. “No smoking in the house. You should go. Mama could come back at any minute and I don’t know what I’d say then.”

“I understand,” Elam said. Still, he hesitated. “Cora, don’t — worry too much about this.” 

“Oh! What’s there to be worried about?” she said. Her expression must have been something because Elam laughed softly and pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

He dressed and left quickly after that, but Cora went back to bed. She couldn’t sleep, of course. Her bed seemed foreign to her now. She got up again and changed the sheets and made the bed. The linen closet was in Mama’s room —she went in a daze, but noticed how the early morning sunshine cut across Mama’s dresser, on an old photograph of their family. 

Cora had seen the photograph all her life but now she really looked at it. It was of Mama, Papa and herself when she had been very young and before Papa had abandoned them. They were all laughing about something, and they all looked happy. The thing that stood out to Cora now was how much Mama and Papa looked like each other. She knew that Grandma Ree and Mama’s mother, no longer alive, had been cousins, but the resemblance shouldn’t be so marked — should it? 

She didn’t have more time to think about it. The front door opened and she heard Mama call her name. 

*

“You’ve had one of your spells again, haven’t you? Cora, honestly! You know what the doctors say!” Mama pressed a cold compress against Cora’s forehead. 

Cora blinked and pushed the compress away. She was lying on Mama’s bed with a spare sheet tucked under her head. Embarrassed, she tried to cover it with irritation. “I don’t have _spells_ , Mama. The doctors told you, it was just due to my anemia. I’m much better now.” 

“So they say,” Mama said doubtfully. “Do you want me to call June and tell her we won’t be able to make it tonight? It’s Hef’s engagement party and honestly, I won’t go if you can’t.” 

“I’m fine. I want to see that fiancée of his,” Cora said. “Is it true that she used to be a Hollywood starlet?”

“Apparently so,” Mama confirmed. “He certainly met her in Atlanta, so she’s a big city girl.” 

“Atlanta’s no Hollywood, though. Well, what happened? I mean, Hef’s nice, but…” 

“Maybe they fell in love,” Mama suggested. They both paused and giggled. “Oh, were you alright last night? That big tree on the way to the gas station fell down, I worried that you might’ve lost power.” 

“Oh, I might’ve. But I slept through most of it.” 

“That’s good. You don’t sleep enough as it is.” Mama reached out and pushed the hair away from Cora’s forehead and smiled. “You know, I’m very proud of you.”

“Mama….” 

“It’s true! You’ve never given me a moment of trouble or doubt. I’ve always loved being your mother. Even when everything was — bad, I always loved you. My little girl. You’ve grown up so much and you’re strong now but still, sometimes I still see when you weren’t much taller than the sawgrass out there. You would gather so many flowers and give them to me and say — “Don’t be sad anymore, Mama.'' And I couldn’t be. Not with you.” 

Cora smiled and hugged her. Mama returned the hug and said quietly, fiercely, “You know, you can tell me anything, don’t you? Anything at all? I won’t get angry. All I want to do is to help you.” 

“I know that, Mama.” Cora glanced at the clock. “Oh, we should start getting ready, shouldn’t we? Grandma Ree’s having that luncheon before the party.” 

“Yes,” Mama sighed. “Everything’s such a goddamn ordeal in this family.” 

*

Grandma Ree’s house was a rambling old Victorian where Papa had grown up and had a reputation for being extremely haunted. Cora had no reason to think that it wasn’t, although the ghosts themselves had always proved elusive. Since coming back into town, Elam had taken to renting the carriage house on the grounds, and Cora eyed the building as she walked down the path towards the main house. She didn’t know if Elam was invited to the luncheon, or, if he was, if he would show up. He wasn’t much for social functions, as a rule. She wasn’t sure how she would be able to keep her face straight if she should see him. 

“My, Cora,” said Grandma Ree from the porch, “are you having a sunstroke? You’re as red as Miss Venus’ dress here.” 

“I’m perfectly all right, Grandma,” Cora said. “It’s just very hot, that’s all.” 

“Well, get inside. Don’t dawdle in the sun.” 

Grandma Ree had a reputation too -- for being a witch among the children in the town, and it also was not entirely unearned. She was a strange woman -- uncanny, having lived far too many lives in the space of eighty-six years. Her eyes were haunted and blue and could bore right through you. When Cora was young, she had been scared to death of being alone with Grandma Ree and even when she was with Mama, she always hide herself behind Mama’s skirts. As such, Grandma Ree considered her a coward to this day. 

As Cora came in, Grandma Ree slipped her a piece of striped red and yellow candy. “Go sit next to that gloomy son of mine,” she instructed her, much to Cora’s growing dismay. 

Elam was sitting in the farthest corner of the sitting room, arms folded across his chest. He was not listening to the person next to him -- poor little cousin Herman, who only wanted someone to talk to about his obsessions with airline routes -- but his face brightened when he spotted her. She was making her way to him when she was diverted by Mama, to make introductions with the fiancée-to-be, Miss Alicia Venus. 

Alicia was as beautiful as her name promised. Her sweetly heart-shaped face was framed with softly waving dark hair. Her hazel, almond-shaped eyes were bright and full of mischief. When Cora touched her hand to greet her, she felt a jolt of something that felt almost like instant infatuation. Startled, Cora pulled away for a moment and stared at her. “You have some power there, Miss Venus.”

“Please, call me Alicia,” Alicia said, practically purred. She was as adorable as a cat and Cora was tempted to pet, which she of course did not do. For the entire luncheon, she sat next to her and they talked about life in Olympia, and Alicia’s life, growing up in California and in other places around the country. 

“Everyone asks where I’m from and they’re so disappointed when I say San Francisco,” Alicia said with a giggle. “I suppose I seem foreign to them.” 

“I wouldn’t be disappointed,” Cora said. “I’ve always wanted to go to California. It seems like a wonderful place.” 

“Well, sometimes it can be,” Alicia said, the smile dropping from her face for a moment. Cora touched her hand for a moment, before Alicia gave her another, stunning smile. “But I wouldn’t recommend Hollywood at all, darling. You wouldn’t believe the things they make young actresses do for work, darling, simply degrading!” 

Then she launched into a long ode about her overwhelming love for Hef.

Well -- Cora had never had much of a poker face. Alicia laughed at her immediately. “Hef _is_ a darling, you know. He’s an inventor as well as all the money he’s coming into.” 

“I mean, all the best to Hef, of course,” Cora said hurriedly, “and you -- I’m very happy for you both.” 

“And you, Cora? Are you seeing anyone?” Alicia leaned in, conspiratorially. “I could set you up with someone if you wanted. It’d be easy. You’re very beautiful and you’re -- what are you working on?” 

“I’m taking a break on my thesis right now. It’s on plant physiology, with an emphasis on floral hormones. But it got a little overwhelming. I missed a few deadlines. Argued with my advisor. Mama said it was fine but -- well.” 

“Well, grad school though. At least you’re trying. Smart, beautiful and an heiress! The complete package!” 

“Oh, I’m not an heiress,” Cora corrected her with a smile. “That is to say, I’m not set to inherit anything in particular. It’s Aunt June’s side of the family that has the money.” 

Alicia’s smile faded somewhat. “Oh, I’ve put my foot in it somehow, haven’t I? I am sorry. These big sprawling families are so hard to figure out.” 

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong,” Cora assured her. “I’m honestly surprised that you can keep any of us straight. I’ve lived here my whole life and there’s still things that surprise me.” 

“Oh? Like what?” 

“Um, well, when my father died last year --” 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” 

“It’s all right, we weren’t close. Well, when he died, I learned that he had a younger brother that I didn’t have any idea about. He’s actually right over there. In black -- Uncle Elam.” 

Alicia looked over eagerly and giggled, covering her mouth as she did so. “Whoa. That’s -- some discovery. Does he always look like … that?” 

“Yes. Always.” 

“ _Really?_ ” 

It was then June and Hef finally arrived to the luncheon and Alicia was summoned to their side. Cora watched her new friend go with some regret before she was pulled into the kitchen to help Hester start settling up the meal. Everything was to be served buffet-style, so after the set-up, Cora grabbed a wrapped sandwich and headed off to find somewhere quiet to eat it. 

“Cora,” Elam said, coming up to her. He was holding two slices of cherry pie with him. He offered her one, which she accepted. “Do you want to see the carriage house?” 

“Alright,” she said easily. They kept in the shade, as they walked down the garden path towards the carriage house. Cora was aware of the heaviness of many eyes on her. She kept her back straight.

In an undertone, she said, “Everyone’s watching us.” 

“They always are,” Elam replied. “They’ve nothing else to do.” 

The carriage house was a miniature replica of the big house -- red brick exterior, with black shutters and iron grillwork covered with ivy. Someone had gone to the trouble of polishing up the bronze plaque in front that noted the date it had been erected. 

The windows were closed against the strong noonday sun and inside, everything was cool and dark. . The place seemed furnished entirely from castoffs from the main house that were too dour, dark and dingy to be used anymore, as well as decorations that could only be of Elam’s own choosing. Far too many eyes, glass and otherwise, followed Cora as she walked inside. There was a faint smell that lingered -- of dust and camphor and leather. 

Cora wanted nothing more than to have a leisurely tour through all of Elam’s belongings, but that would probably be considered rude. Instead, they decamped to the tiny dining room and had lunch there, talking idly about this and that. 

Decidedly not talking about the night before. 

It was as if nothing had happened. Perhaps, if Cora allowed it, it would continue on this way. They could pretend it never happened. Cora took a bite of her cherry pie and smeared the bright red juice across her lower lip absently and then licked it away. She watched Elam watch her do that, his eyes hungry. Or perhaps not. 

She pushed away her plate and stood up. “So,” she said. “This is a _very_ creepy place you have here. I guess I should have asked earlier -- are you a serial killer?” 

He gave her an unhappy look. “No, I’m not.” 

“You’ve murdered _less_ than three people, then?” 

“Cora!” In the distance she could hear her mother calling for her. Cora groaned.

As quick as a snake, Elam came upon and kissed her, hard and quick. 

He let her go before she could protest with an impish grin. “Go away, Cora. You wouldn’t want your mother to see.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Cora found her mother looking for her in the garden with her little cousin Artie at her heels. “Cora!” her mother said, scoldingly. “I’ve been looking for you forever! Lunch was finished an hour ago, where were you?” 

“Reading,” Cora said vaguely. “Hey, Artie. How’s scouting?” 

“Good,” Artie replied. “Your mom said she’d take my troop out to go foraging later. Do you want to go too?” 

Cora couldn’t think of a worse time than being stuck in the woods with a group of eight year olds, trying to stop them from eating potentially poisonous foods on a whim. “I might be busy,” she confessed. “We’ll see how this wedding shakes out.” 

“There won’t be wedding.” From nowhere, the voice of Artie’s twin, Pol, manifested, and, a few minutes later, so did he. The twins were mirror images of each other -- lanky, brown children with the propensity to get into trouble. Their mother, Leta, usually didn’t let them come out to play except for family functions like this. Like Cora herself, Artie and Pol were considered distaff family members -- not part of the family, not the heirs to Mount Olympia. Cora was very fond of them. 

Mama checked Pol’s temperature and frowned. From an early age, Pol had had a bit of psychic ability -- nothing really useful, couldn’t guess lottery tickets or the winner of the Kentucky Derby, but for births, deaths and other local phenomena, Pol was right more than he was wrong. 

“Cora, take them both to Grandma Ree, would you?” she said. “And then come straight back. We have to go home and get ready for the party.” 

Cora sighed and did what she was told, even though both Artie and Pol whined to her about it as they walked up the garden steps. The heat was oppressive and it seemed as though their steps echoed in the silence, longer and longer. 

Pol started tugging at Cora’s hand. “What is it, Pol?” 

“You shouldn’t, you know.” 

“What?” 

“You know, I don’t,” he said quickly, shaking his head. Artie stared at her suspiciously. Cora looked at them uneasily. She truly hoped that neither of them had anything to base their warnings on. 

Grandma Ree was waiting for them in the kitchen with three glasses of lemonade, as well as one Cora could take for her mother. Seeing her grandmother, Cora remembered the hard candy that she still had in her pocket that she had received this morning. She left it on Grandma Ree’s counter after saying her goodbyes. 


	2. almost unforgivable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a little early, so buckle in.

The radio played songs that Mama had grown up listening to as Cora helped put finishing touches on their hair. They had agreed that, of course, it would be predictable to go bedecked in flowers -- _however_ \-- they had so many flowers, they simply had to -- what a waste it would be, otherwise. Cora had made identical flower crowns for them to wear -- with dark red zinnias, black eyed susans, deep green foliage and some orange poppies. The dark and dramatic flowers went well with their fair, flowing hair. Their dresses too were the color of poppies, and they wore simple black masks over their faces -- for the party was a masquerade. 

“A masquerade,” Cora mused. “That must’ve have been Alicia’s idea. It’s dramatic and exciting, just like her.” 

“Do you like her? I saw you talking to her very excitedly this afternoon. You never usually take to people that quickly.” 

Cora blushed. “Well, she’s very charming, Mama. But yes, I do like her. And I’ve always wanted to go to a masquerade, so I’m grateful for the opportunity as well.”

“I’m glad to see you so excited! It’s too bad that Linton couldn’t make tonight.” 

Cora almost laughed. Linton was a local boy she had been seeing, on and off, for the last few years. Mama had always made it clear that she approved of him, as he was smart, kind and his family connections were impeccable. 

And Linton was perfectly fine. Cora liked him very much. She was also bored to tears whenever they spent more than an hour in each other’s presence. She hadn’t seen him in more than six months, though Mama didn’t know this. 

“Oh, yes, his new job is running him ragged, poor soul,” she said. “But he’s so happy.” 

“Well, darling,” Mama said, swirling her dress around. “I do hope none of your beaux get the two of us confused. That would be rather awkward, wouldn’t it?” 

“If they do, it would be their fault for not paying attention,” Cora answered sweetly. Privately, she thought that if Elam approached Mama thinking she was her, he deserved everything he would get. She smiled, imagining the carnage. 

*

Mount Olympia had been built in the turn of the last century by a robber baron by the name of Ithas, a clever man who gained the world and then lost it. As a child, Cora had come in and out of the manor without much thought about its history or her place in it. Now, as an adult, she had more reason to think of it, and more reason to stay away. 

It was not for her, this place or its unthinking privilege. Being there, walking down its halls, it was all too easy to become seduced into thinking that this was the right way to live -- the only way to live. No wonder Papa had never looked back. Not, of course, that he was the kind of person to ever look back in the first place. 

Cora went dutifully through the entrance and made her greetings to the happy couple. Alicia was a vision in white and crystal, Cinderella at her ball, complete with delicate slippers that she proudly showed off as being almost made of glass. 

After the greetings and kisses and good wishes -- and Cora’s congratulations to Alicia were sincere, and her promise to find Alicia later, when things had calmed down, true -- and then, she floated around the party, never staying in one place for long. She kissed Hef on the cheek -- of her many half-brothers, he was her favorite, in truth, and avoided Martin, as always. She had never liked Martin and never would. Martin always put his hands where he shouldn’t. 

Hester was hiding in the kitchens, as usual, even though her mother had forced her to wear a nice dress today. Cora complimented her on it, and Hester gave her a tight, impatient smile. It occured to Cora that Hester must think that Cora was merely condescending to her, which could easily be true.

It was eight o’clock when Cora had finally had enough. The person she had been looking for was clearly not here and she had made herself a fool by coming here with such high hopes. She ought to go sit down and watch the dancing with the matrons -- or, better yet, go to the library and read. 

The library was on the other side of the house from the ballroom. Here, the sounds of the music was faint. Even so, she found herself doing little waltz steps. It had been years since her last dance lesson -- did it go _this_ way or _that_? 

Thus distracted, Cora only noticed half a moment before it happened -- the specter in poppy red rushing past her, moving in all speed, away from the library and towards the ballroom. 

“... Mama?” But it was too late, Cora was alone. Was there something in the library that had upset her mother? 

Cora walked briskly to the door of the library, but not before grabbing the heaviest pewter candlestick on hand. The door was ajar and she nudged it open. She didn’t know what she expected to see there. Perhaps, a body lying on the carpet? Or something expensive -- irreplaceable, stolen? 

But then she heard a soft groan and let herself in. Cora took in the scene at once. Elam was sitting at the piano bench, his face in his hands. He looked up at the noise of Cora’s entrance and said, wearily, “Come back to finish the job, Demi?” 

“So that _was_ Mama,” Cora said to herself. She quickly locked the door behind her and was about to remove her mask before she thought better of it. “So, who do you think this is?” 

“Cora, stop it. Your mother almost killed me.” 

“I wonder why,” Cora said, advancing on him. He turned and lifted his face toward her. He was wearing a devil’s mask, a slash of red in an otherwise black outfit. It suited him. 

She pulled back his hair to take a better look at him and smiled. “Did Mama hurt you? Can you show me where?” 

“I don’t know if I like this game,” Elam muttered, biting his lip. Cora kissed him, following that with a bite until he winced, though he didn’t pull away. She slid onto his lap, feeling his hardness pressed against her thighs. She kissed him again. 

Pulling away, she asked him, “So my mother knows about us, I presume?” 

“She … isn’t ignorant of the implications, I would say.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“This town is filled with people who love to gossip and love to watch other people destroy their lives. This is just like a feast to them.” 

“So why are we feeding them?” 

Elam was quiet. “If we were to always do what everyone insisted was a good idea … Then life would be unbearably boring, wouldn’t it?” 

“You are technically my elder, you know,” Cora said, “but so very irresponsible, I cannot imagine taking you seriously.” 

“Oh, Proserpina, if you took me seriously, I could not imagine loving you as deeply as I do.” 

“That’s strange,” Cora whispered in his ear, “I don’t believe you love me at all.” 

“Then how can I show you that I do?” Elam asked her. He seemed in earnest, but it was hard to tell with him. 

They kissed and Elam’s elbow banged against the piano keys, making a discordant noise. Cora pulled away for a moment. It seemed like they were dangerously close to fucking against the piano, which would, of course, not be particularly good for it. Cora wasn’t sure she was in the position to care, at this point. It was an antique Steinway. People had probably fucked against it before.

She could feel her flower crown falling slowly off her head. Carefully, she unpinned it from her hair and said, “Should we go somewhere more reasonable?” 

Somewhere more reasonable turned out to be against the bookshelves (against religion and mythology) and finished against a crescendo of falling books -- which Cora made Elam pick up, while she redid her makeup and readjusted her dress. 

Once everything was put to rights, they still lingered together. Not to talk so much as to stay in each other's presence. Elam touched her hand, tentatively, as if he hadn’t been licking his fingers clean of her juices a few minutes ago. “I want to talk to you about something. Cora. If you’d like to come into my office on Monday, I’d appreciate it.” 

“What is it about?” Cora asked, curiously. “Is it about my parents? And you?” 

He blinked. “Yes. Do you already know?”

“I want them to tell me. And I want them to tell me why they never told me before.” 

“Then it’s not my place to say?” 

“You’ve involved yourself in it, so don’t worry about that,” she assured him. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Well, I’ll see you then.” 

*

“Cora! Where were you?” Alicia cried as she pounced on her, wrapping a strong arm around Cora with a cry of delight. “I looked for you everywhere and I was _so_ afraid that you had given me the slip and you had left early.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” Cora said, surprised. “I promised I would see you before I left.” 

“I’m surprised that you remembered,” Alicia said with a smile and kissed her. She giggled. “Oh! You’re wearing some strong perfume, aren’t you?” 

“I suppose,” Cora said, a touch nervously. 

“Cora, I hope you won’t think me too bold if I ask you to introduce me to that handsome devil of an uncle of yours. I’ve tried other people, but no one seems willing to indulge me. He doesn’t talk to anyone -- well, anyone except _you._ ” 

“Well, I don’t know if he’s around. He really is very anti-social, you know.” 

“I’ve heard.” Alicia smiled, brilliantly. “But I see him coming down the stairs over there. I’m sure if you call him over, he’ll come.” 

Cora caught Elam’s eye. If they were able to speak without talking, she would have asked him to turn around and keep walking. Unfortunately, he made a bee-line directly for them, much to Alicia’s delight. To Cora’s surprise, the two of them got on like a house on fire. She wondered if it would be too rude for her to step away and get a drink from the open bar. 

But before she could slip away, Alicia caught her. “Cora, really. You can’t leave when all we’re doing is talking about you.” 

“Ah, but that sounds boring,” Cora protested. “Surely the two of you, being such interesting people can think of much more exciting topics of conversations.” 

“Oh, like what?” said Elam. 

“Hm. Well, say -- if you could kill one person in the world with no consequences at all, who would it be and how would you do it?” 

“My father. I’d fill his stomach with rocks until it burst and then I’d cut off his head,” said Elam, far too casually.

“Well, I can’t tell you my plan,” Alicia said. “I don’t know if you’re a cop or not.” 

“It’s too late,” Cora told her, “I’ve been taping all of our conversations so far.” 

Alicia laughed, full-throated and deep. Then she flashed a look at Elam, soft and beseeching. “Now, would you be a darling and bring us some champagne?” 

“Of course,” he muttered with a slight smile and left. 

“Cora, I have a request for you as well,” Alicia said, a little tentatively. 

“You don’t have to ask my permission,” Cora said firmly. “But for God’s sake, Alicia, please don’t. Did you notice he had an answer waiting for me?” 

“Yes, it sounded like he was speaking from experience. But who’s to say? Anyway, I felt like I should ask first.” 

“He’s my uncle. If there’s anyone you might want to talk about it with, perhaps it’s Hef.” 

“Oh, _Hef_ ,” Alicia said with a shrug. “He -- doesn’t like me. I don’t think -- well, to be honest. I’m starting to have doubts.” 

“You can tell me,” Cora said, “I won’t judge you for feeling however you feel. But -- honestly, if you want someone, I don’t mind if you tried me out either.” 

“Really?” Alicia said brightly. “I wouldn’t mind it either.” 

Elam returned with the champagne and Cora drank it down. It was then that the party really began. 

*

Cora dreamed of a woman who shared her face, who asked if she was ready to see. 

“See what?” she asked. 

“Open your eyes,” said her other self. “You have always wondered why you felt incomplete. Wonder no more.” 

“I’m afraid. If I do so now, my life will change completely.” 

“It will.” The woman looked sad. “When you can see the dead, the dead can also see you.” 

Cora blinked and woke up. It took her a moment to place herself -- she was in a guest bedroom in Mount Olympia. She had had one of her spells again over the engagement dinner and had been taken to bed. But now, she saw that Mama, Grandma Ree, Elam and June were standing on the end of her bed. And all of them were surrounded by pale shades, clinging to their bodies. Some she recognized -- Papa waved a ghostly hand at her -- but many, many she didn’t. 

“Well, this one’s turned,” June said. “Took her long enough. Can’t figure out if she was very resilient or just dense.” 

There was a deep shadow lurking behind Grandma Ree, who didn’t seem to mind it. She grinned at Cora like she enjoyed her horror. 

“Cora, it’s a shock, I know,” Elam said and Cora stared at him. He was like her, she realized, but more so. The air around him was so dense that it seemed like he was the event horizon of a black hole. 

She looked at them and they looked at her. How strange that she had never noticed how much they looked like each other. How strange they all were. Gods and monsters, all at once, made up pieces of each other. And so was she. 

“Cora,” Mama said softly. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.” 

“She didn’t want you to find out at all,” said Grandma Ree, “which, fair enough.” 

“How could you do it?” Cora demanded. 

“Maybe we can go downstairs, get some tea, talk about this like civilized people,” Elam said. “You know, play pretend.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Didn’t you already?”

They glared at each other, as if their shared hostility could make the rest of their family disappear. But of course, things didn’t work that way. 

June cleared her throat lightly and said, “Well, no tea, then. Let’s go down to the seance room. Otherwise the shouting might disturb the children.” 

“Surely all children ought to learn, sooner or later,” Cora said, not taking the sweater that Mama offered her. 

“Hopefully, they won’t need such a dramatic intervention like you do, Cora,” said Grandma Ree. 

“Let’s not pretend we couldn’t wait until after breakfast for this,” Cora said, yawning. “Mama, you’re right. Everything is such a goddamn ordeal in this family.” 

“My darling girl,” Mama said, opening the door to the room. “You’ve no idea.” 

*

The seance room was -- in the daylight, also known as the small breakfast room -- dominated by a round wooden table, which seated six people. They had one too few to properly raise the dead. 

“You’ve never met your grandfather, Cora, ” Grandma Ree said, as she sat in the medium’s chair. “In this, you were very, very lucky. He was a cruel, bad man. I married him when I was young and foolish and bore him many children. He hurt them and I -- couldn’t stop them.

They had arranged themselves into a circle around her -- June in the seat next to her, Mama on her other side. Cora sat on the opposite side of all of them, though Elam had pushed his seat to be closer to Cora. 

Grandma Ree took a deep breath, as if she was about to begin a seance, for all that they were a broken circle, unable to raise the dead with anything but their words and fragments of memories.

 _I could do it_ , Cora realized. She looked at the ghosts that surrounded her family. _I could give them voice._ Papa looked at her. She said nothing. 

“Momma, we didn’t blame you,” Mama said quietly. 

“Didn’t you?” Elam said, sharply. “I could’ve sworn that none of this would’ve happened if she had taken us and left.” 

“It’s hard to leave, a relationship like that,” said Mama quietly. “Someone cuts the tendons of your feet and then they ask you why you can’t run.” 

June yawned. “Weren’t you a baby at the time?” 

“I was old enough to notice.” 

“We tried to protect you,” Mama said, “you never saw the worst of it.” 

“Until they didn’t,” he said bitterly. 

“Until that night,” Grandma Ree said. She sounded like she was almost dreaming. 

“Jupiter and I,” Mama said, “we would take the kids up to the attic on the nights when the fight would be too rough. But that night we realized that the baby was still downstairs. Jupiter wanted to go downstairs by himself, but I insisted on going down with him. We were so, so afraid that this would be the night Daddy killed Momma.” 

“He told me when we were married,” June said, her hand twisting around the ring on her finger. “I wasn’t aware of how it was -- before.” 

Cora wanted to scream at her -- looking concerned and complacent in this place of horror. _What right does she have to be here, to listen to this?_ Mama put an arm on Cora’s shoulder for a moment, steadying her, before she let go. 

“Who was the first to strike the blow?” Grandma Ree asked, as if it was a part of the catechism her children should know by heart. 

Mama said finally. “It was me. I pushed him down the stairs when he was running at me. I told him that I was keeping the baby and he --” 

“Oh,” Cora said. “That was me.” 

“You would be right, darling,” Elam said, reaching for her. She flicked him off. 

“Who’s my father? Your brother? Or -- your father?” 

Mama looked miserable. It was as if a light had gone out of her eyes. “I didn’t raise you to be cruel, Cora.” 

“It’s not cruel to want the truth, Mama. You’ve lied to me my entire life and I’m begging you to tell me the truth.” 

“My father raped me when I was fifteen,” Mama said. “That’s the truth. If I can live with that, Cora, my girl, you can too, now.” 

Cora swallowed down the hurt and nodded. “Yes. Why did you keep me? You could’ve gotten an abortion. I would’ve understood it.” 

June snorted. “Besides the fact that it was illegal to? Do you pay attention, girl?” 

“Shut up, Aunt June. Why are you even here?” 

“This is my fucking house, missy. You should be more respectful.” Papa made an abortive silencing gesture. Cora noticed for the first time that the ghosts swirling around June were a legion. 

“I do apologize, ma’am, I am overwrought with the news. Please forgive me.” 

June nodded, accepting her apology -- for now. 

Cora looked at her mother. “So what happened next?” 

“Actually, you’re wrong, Demi,” Elam said suddenly. “You may have pushed him, but I made sure he fell. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was stepping, after all. Daddy was always a careless man. Raging will do that to you.” 

“Cracked his head opened on the marble foyer. Took forever to get the blood stains out,” said Grandma Ree. She paused, thinking about it. “Especially when Jupiter cut off his head.” 

“This is insane,” Cora said, messaging her temples. “Absolutely insane. How did Papa -- I mean, Uncle Jupiter not go to prison for that?” 

“Darling, they never found Daddy’s body. We threw that in the swamp,” Mama said. “As far as anyone knows, Daddy ran off from his responsibilities and Momma couldn’t cope with it. They put poor Elam and Don in foster care for a time, and I had to go away for a while, but I managed to come back. Changed my name, changed my hair. Changed my life. No one was the wiser. At least, no one bothered me about it. It took Elam longer to come back to us.” 

“A rich and loving family adopted me,” Elam said, folding his hands together. “Unfortunately, people around me tend to … die unnaturally. Including them.” 

“Really,” Cora said drily. “Do you help them along with that?” 

“I’ve already told you no,” Elam said patiently. “I’ve never murdered anyone alone, Cora.” 

“You know, normal people don’t have all these qualifiers when they deny being murderers. Also -- all that.” She gestured to his entire person. 

He grinned. “I think we can all agree that none of us are normal people here?” 

“Cora,” Mama said urgently. “What are you going to do now?” 

Cora rose from her seat, somewhat unsteadily and waved off Elam’s offer of assistance. She reached out and kissed her mother’s forehead. “Thank you for telling me the truth, Mama,” she said tenderly. “I know it was hard. I’ll see you at home.” 

“If that’s all,” June said with a yawn, “I’ll go to bed too. Come on, Grandma Ree. But before that -- Demi, you need something strong to drink, I think.” 

“Cora, we can go home together,” Mama said, rising. 

But Cora shook her head. “I need to clear my head.” 

Mama nodded. The three women left the seance room quietly and Cora let herself breathe freely. Her head was clear. She no longer had anything to lose. She did have some strange powers that she didn’t quite understand yet, but she would get there. Eventually. Probably. 

She heard Elam moving in the dark. She turned to him and said, “Why are you still here?” 

“Let me go with you,” Elam said briskly. “You’re not in any condition to drive.” 

“I’m fine,” Cora said. “Honestly, I am.” 

“Cora …” 

She flashed him a brief smile and crooked her fingers at him. When he came towards her, she kissed him. He followed her when she pulled away, but she shook her head. “You knew about all of this but still pursued me. That’s hard to forgive, Elam.”

“I know. I don’t expect you to do so.” He touched her face with those beautiful fingers of his. She smiled for a moment. 

“Would you play something for me?” 

He nodded. They left the seance room together and made their way to the library. With Athena in college, no one else at Mount Olympia had much use for the library -- which was a pity. It was such a beautiful space, even in the dark, like this. 

Cora stood still for a moment, listening. The music was secondary -- it always was secondary, in Cora’s mind. But she let it wrap around her and comfort her. She leaned against his back, her bright hair falling across his shoulder. She admired the contrast. 

She mused, “We never walked out together in the light. Not really. Isn’t that strange?” 

“Not for me,” he murmured. “Maybe one day you’ll see the appeal of the night, Proserpina.” 

She watched his beautiful fingers work across the bone-white keys. Without hesitation, she reached down and slammed the heavy piano cover over those lovely, fragile fingers. 

Then, she did it again. 

At his scream of pain, she was at the library door. 

She turned to say, casually, “I’m not really interested in a shared custody deal with you and my mother. Goodbye, Elam.” 

He held out his bloodied hands in wry supplication. “This only makes me love you more, you know.” 

“Christ.” She turned away. “You’re lucky I’m not locking the door.” 

*

Cora was getting Elam’s car -- a black convertible, predictably enough -- started when she spotted Alicia coming out of the house with several pieces of luggage. There was a ghost, a stunningly beautiful young man, slung around her neck. Cora tried not to stare. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Cora asked her. 

“I’m running away with the family silver,” Alicia said matter-of-factly. “Abandoning my responsibilities and fiance and all that. How about you?” 

“About the same.” Cora looked into Alicia’s eyes. She wondered if Alicia had been up and about last night, and if that had anything to do with her abrupt departure. Alicia looked back at her, a benign smile on her face. “Do you want to do that together?” 

Before Cora could possibly change her mind, Alicia had thrown in the rest of her luggage in the back and climbed into the passenger side seat. They stopped at the cottage for Cora to pack, hurriedly, and leave a note for her mother -- promising to call later and assuring her that she had not run away with Elam. She ended the note with: _I love you, but I won’t stay._

She and Alicia had driven two miles out of town when they picked up a hitchhiker holding up a sign saying Las Vegas. He had bronze-colored hair and brown skin. The dead seemed to love him too. There was a wild look in his eyes that Cora recognized— it was the same as hers. 

“What’s your name?” she asked him. 

“Dionysus.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” 

“Well, I’m a beautiful boy.” 

Cora grinned. “Do you want to come with us? We’re going to California.” 

Dionysus smiled and so began the days of divine madness. 

Long may they run. 


	3. post-credit scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, he will be fine. Mostly.

Hester usually got up before dawn most days. She liked the quiet it afforded her, the peace. Her mother liked to sleep in and her brothers knew better than to mess with her before she had had time to prepare the kitchen and brew her first pot of coffee. The kitchen was, for all intents and purposes, her refuge. A survivor of many attempts at renovations and upgrades, but still poky and difficult to work with -- Hester liked to think that it was very much like her. Papa had always teased her for being a homebody, but she never saw anything bad about knowing where you belonged -- in the beating heart of your home, in the nucleus of everything that ever happened here. 

But today, there was a foreign presence in her kitchen: her slightly creepy uncle Elam. He looked at her, relieved.

“Hester,” he said, “I’m so glad to see you.” Hester hesitated at the door. She hadn’t realized that he knew her name. 

“I need your help,” he said. There was blood on his hands. “You can drive to the hospital, right?” 

Hester took in the scene. She realized that her time had come and that somehow, somewhere, her lifelong one-sided rivalry with her half-sister Cora had come to a head. Cora, who everyone loved and made excuses for, had finally done something unforgivable. 

Hester smiled. She was lovely when she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a loose end for anyone but me, but I know there's a bunch of gods/goddesses missing. But Kore/Cora and Hestia/Hester switched places, and they never got on. Which makes me sad. Why did I do that? Anyway, familial conflict. It happens.

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about when I realized that the work of VC Andrews and the Hades and Persephone have very similar beats. Tellingly, the first VC Andrews book I ever read was _Heaven_ and _Dark Angel_ which features a ridiculous plotline of tragically hot uncle/lover who dies by riding into the sea. But did he??? (No, not really.) I was fourteen. It was a different time. 
> 
> (Okay, but also: what if Audrina had been able to drive away from Whitefern??? Sure, take Sylvia, but leave Papa and Alden or Arden or whatever his name is. Come on, VC!!!) 
> 
> Anyway, the two threads of the story came together seriously so perfectly that I was astonished. I wrote this out in a weekend. It was really enjoyable. I drank a lot of rosé. 
> 
> Notes on the names: yep, they're a mess! Greek names! Roman names! Random English names! Like Elam says, don't think too hard about it. I think I thought the most about his name, which means hidden, which has the same as Hades. But, yeah. Heh. 
> 
> Title based on this cover of the Depeche Mode song by [Rhiannon Mair, Strangelove.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jN6Yy1KUwqY) Also highly recommend: [Black Swan - Rhiannon Giddens](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2xgNJ083ug). I guess I'm saying give up everything else and just listen to women named Rhiannon singing to you. Thanks. 
> 
> If you could kudos and comment ~~and tell me I’m a pretty baby~~ I would very much appreciate it.


End file.
